The Feeling I've Forgotten
by SuperDuperSpecialSarah
Summary: Severus Snape has forgotten how to love. It has hurt him too much. He can't imagine where he'd find a way to do so, nor can he imagine that he actually fall in love again...summaries are the bane of my existance. Read. Please acknowledge last addition to
1. Memories, Critiques, Libraries, and FOOD

That Feeling I've Forgotten  
  
Severus Snape woke up abruptly, just as the sun was creeping into the darkness of night. He glanced at his watch. 5:30. "Darn."  
  
He looked back at it again, remembering who had given it to him. Molly Duncan. But, no, he didn't want to remember that part of his past. He actually wanted to be able to sleep for another hour. Remembering would just depress him more. As he fell into his temporary slumber, his pale face was graced with the sunlight's presence.  
  
Hermione Granger was up at the crack of dawn, ready for another day of learning. She was still tired, but she didn't care: she'd give up almost anything for learning. She glanced around her room that she was sharing with Ginny. She wasn't going to just any library, but the biggest and oldest one of the wizarding world. The sun was just making its grand appearance, bringing with it one of the last days of summer. As her stomach began to growl, she realized that due to her lack of appetite last night, she was famished.  
  
Just as she was wondering what she'd have, the essence of the morning's breakfast filled her nostrils. "Yum, bacon and eggs."  
  
But before she reached the kitchen, she looked in the mirror on the wall. Hideous, she thought. Sure, her eyes had that chocolate brown that made you want to eat them, even though she didn't advise it to anyone, and wouldn't enjoy it herself either. And her teeth had been fixed by three years of braces and a few charms. She also had an acceptable figure. But, as she thought, that was it. She did, from time to time, look in the mirror and get the strong urge to put some beauty spells on, but that was it. Her hair was coming out of her ponytail in every direction and she realized that her bangs needed cutting, too. But her mind was back on food, and food alone. She wanted food. 


	2. And Then They Got Food

Severus overslept. He was finally awaken by the hooting of his owl, Rhysenn. She was a pretty owl, by owl standards. She was mostly black, except for some small hidden patches of white. She was a good-sized one, too. She got his packages to the recipients on time, never got lost, and could always carry his post.  
She had the morning's Daily Prophet in her beak and was awaiting her payment. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Thanks, Rhysenn," he said groggily, placing a Knut in a little pouch attached to her leg. She rubbed his arm with her head before taking off, and he watched her away until she disappeared into the morning light.  
He was up late last night working on his syllabus for the sixth year NEWT classes. He had meant to finish it sooner, however, Dumbledore had summoned him to his office for a few words. The headmaster had a few pieces of advice for him, seeing as Snape's safety really was in jeopardy. The Dark Lord had been suspicious of his Death Eaters lately, he was positive that there was an unfaithful person amongst them. And because he thought that the traitor most definitely wasn't going to allude to his guiltiness by being retarded and breaking out a guitar and singing "Kumbaya" at the next Death Eater revel, he thought it best to test their loyalty. This "test" was unexplained as of now, but Snape and Dumbledore doubted that it was anything easy.  
But Snape had a schedule to stick to, and right now, he was late for breakfast.  
  
******  
  
"Good morning, Hermione, darling!" said a mock-cheerful voice from inside of the oven. Mrs. Weasley had obviously had another of her manic rages that drove her to bake and cook anything and everything that could possibly fit in the kitchen. Hermione suspected that she's been up late brooding over Percy again, which was a regular occurrence lately. Lucky for the rest of them, they were never lacking something to eat. "G'morning, Mrs. Weasley. You alright?"  
  
She set down the newly baked pound cake on the counter and sighed. "Oh, yes, dear, of course. Just felt like cooking, that's all." As Hermione looked at her, she noticed that her eyes were red and her face was a little blotchy-the telltale signs of recent crying. Her hair was hastily put up in a clip, with tendrils of fading flames escaping their holder. She had always reminded Hermione of exactly how one thinks of a mother: always paranoid, worrying, loving, kind, gentle, caring. The kind that will always be waiting for you at home when you get back from school with a plate of cookies and milk. The kind that would always be doing something: laundry, cleaning, polishing, vacuuming, cooking. She was a great mother. But Mrs. Weasley always seemed to find that she needed to do more, be better, and wasn't doing her best. "Anything I can help with? Cleaning or something?" she asked. "Oh, no, thank you, hun." Hermione knew that she'd refuse. She just asked to make herself sound helpful. But she still wanted food. "May I please." "Oh, yes, your breakfast. You can have whatever you like. I'll get you some bacon and eggs. Your favorite!" "Thank you very much." "You're always welcome."  
Hermione fixed them some tea and ate with Mrs. Weasley, chatting about school and girly things. When the clock struck nine, they heard the others stirring upstairs. Ginny was the first to descend.  
"Up early again, I see. It's not like the library's gonna move if we don't get there early," she said, rubbing her eyes. "Mum, the kitchen smells great," she peered into the nearest pot. "Bouillabaisse, Mum?"  
"Well, I thought I might try a few new things. Nothing wrong with that."  
The next one down was Harry, looking as though he'd needed the sleep he got.  
"Hey, girls. Good morning Mrs. Weasley. Breakfast smells great!" He smiled his always warming smile, the kind that always provoked the recipient to smile back. "Hermione, are you going to the library again today? I might go with you today."  
  
"Yeah, Harry, I am. I'd love to have some company. You think Ron would come?"  
  
"Come where?" Ron's tall, lanky torso was appearing at the stairs followed by an unkempt head of fire. He needed a haircut, but Hermione had heard Lavender talking about how much she loved guys with shaggy hair last year. Ron had apparently overheard. Harry, however, didn't even need to try to get his hair shaggy.  
  
"To your favorite place in the world, Ron!" replied Hermione.  
  
"Oh, God, not a library!" Ron groaned.  
  
"Not just a library, you dork! The library. The St. David's Wizarding Library of Ancient and Modern Texts. Besides, you don't have to go." She glared at him with mock-hatred.  
  
"Yeah, Ron, we can get a good start on our summer homework. Snape's got us doing so much bloody work, I'll probably still be working on it when we graduate. Plus, maybe there are a few things that we might find interesting. I heard that Malfoy's dad contributed a lot to the Dark Arts section. Of course, you have to have a really good reason to get into there." Harry said.  
  
"Why the bloody hell would we wanna read that?" Ron was lost.  
  
"I'll tell you when we get there," Harry whispered through his clenched teeth.  
  
"Wh.ohh. Okay. Mum, can we go to St. David's?" asked Ron.  
  
Mrs. Weasley hadn't really been paying attention.she was yet again on the verge of tears.  
  
"What? Oh, why, yes dear of course. Just take Ginny with you."  
  
"But, Mum!! Why do I.?" Ginny protested.  
  
"You will go with your brother. How are you all getting there?"  
  
"Floo Powder." Hermione replied.  
  
"Okay, just pop back in if you'll be late for supper."  
  
"Yes, ma'm." they all replied. ********  
Snape arrived in the Great Hall at about nine and was greeted by many of his colleagues. This is why he hated being late to breakfast. He liked to eat alone. He would probably be offered some pastry by Albus, engaged in an attempt at conversation by Flitwick, and be asked to pass the salt at least twice. Severus personally thought that these people should be monitoring their sodium intake, but no one ever cared.  
The meal passed as normal as could be, with Albus not only offering a blueberry scone, but a bear claw as well. He could've sworn the old man mumbled something about "keeping that girlish figure," but Severus pushed that aside. Sure enough, Flitwick wanted to discuss topics of the day: modern sciences, politics, the weather. Snape would rather Crucio himself first. And the salt was requested three times. He protested the third, saying that they could just Accio the damn thing if they wanted it.  
After breakfast and refusing to go to the Three Broomsticks with the other teachers, Snape decided to alter his schedule and do a bit of end of vacation drinking. After all, drunkenness can soothe, he thought. He searched his personal store and dug up some muggle '98 Stag's Leap and a few Harp Lagers. He had a high tolerance for the stuff but he just wanted to drink. He wanted to forget his nightmare of last night. Life really sucks, he thought.  
After a few hours' drinking and many an attempt to start the seventh years' syllabus, he finally decided to summon some soup and a hogey (Author's Note: it's a sub, y'know, a hogey! I just HAD to write it! I HAD to, you understand.). While Snape ate his hogey, he read his Daily Prophet from that morning. Apparently, they still weren't done apologizing to Potter, they were now doing them daily. His picture covered the paper, pictures of him doing everything (HARRY POTTER BRUSHES TEETH!! In circles! See pictures! Amazing!!). And while at the Post Office in Hogsmeade, Severus could've sworn that he saw a magazine with a special on the Harry Pott-Head-How to Get Harry Potter-esque Hair!! Severus could've died. He felt that he needed a haircut named after him, but Grease-us Slime-ape didn't quite have that ring to it. Shucks, he thought.  
As he got into bed, Snape saw his watch again, with its inscription on the back: Love You, Live for You, Die for You, True to You-Always and forever, Molly Duncan.  
He didn't sleep easy.  
  
Author's Notes: Hey y'all! Hope y'all like the Kumbaya thing. And the Hogey. And the Grease-us Slime-ape. Random, random me. This is a first fic for me, so please review. If you can't tell, I'm going somewhere with the Molly Duncan thing. And there's a darn good reason hermione's in here. Please e-mail if you have any suggestions for my plot. I could use 'em. And remember, even sex gods can be prude---it's a Draco thing. He'll be big in here, as will Lucius. Might I also suggest a Superdy Duperdy good fic on www.schnoogle.com by Cassandra Claire. Actually, 'tis a trilogy. Read Draco Dormiens, then Draco Sinister, then Draco Veritas. They're AMAZING!!! Thanks~~~SuperDuperSpecialSarah 


	3. To The Plan Man, and 'To the Library

"St. David's!!" shouted Hermione into the bright green flames. They were warm and welcoming, and as she stepped into the fiery blanket, she felt herself getting calmer. She wasn't quite used to Floo powder yet, and she was also excited and apprehensive to learn. She wasn't going to do any schoolwork- she was doing outside research. On a certain kind of magic, in particular. She wanted to find out more about the kind of magic that had brought back Lord Voldemort. She guessed that it was Blood Magic---a very Dark Art. But no matter what it was, St. David's would probably have it. She planned on being in the newly opened Lucius Octavius Malfoy Donation selection. Knowing Mr. Malfoy, it would probably be full of Dark texts. But in order to get in there, you needed Ministry permission. Seeing as Minister Fudge had just gotten over the fact that Voldemort was, in fact, back, Hermione thought it best to ask some one with power in the Ministry who would be willing to help. Dumbledore. She'd owled Dumbledore a few weeks ago for permission to do the research. Dumbledore questioned her thoroughly about exactly what she planned to do, making sure that she knew exactly how serious the subject was. He eventually consented and personally delivered the form that would allow her into the Malfoy section so that it didn't fall into the wrong hands. Right when she'd gotten into the flames, she felt herself spinning. Her stomach got a little uneasy, but she kept her composure, and, soon enough, she felt the ground beneath her.  
  
****************************** When he'd finally gotten to sleep, it was not easy. Snape tossed and turned as he tried not to have his nightmare again.  
  
"What the hell are you doing here?" demanded a voice behind him, making him jump. Severus heard the jumbled murmurs behind the source of this voice, none of which sounded like they were very positive. "I said, what are you doing here, Slytherin?" The voice was that of a Ravenclaw sixth year, whose name Severus was unsure of. Ryan, maybe, Ryan Soule. Snape's mouth made attempts at words, but nothing was coming out. He turned to face Ryan and the crowd. "GET OUT OF OUR COMMON ROOM!!" shouted Ryan. "I- er- uhh- um- y- I..," was all Severus could manage. "Why are you here? If you don't tell us, leave or we'll hex you." Ryan did seem quite confident in his hexing power, but Snape hadn't noticed. "Wh-wh-where's Molly? What's wrong with her?!" Snape was breaking into a sweat, he knew, but he was also getting a lump in his throat, a very unwelcome lump. "Molly? What do you want with her?" asked one of Molly's guy friends, protectively- a big, burly seventh year named Michael. "She's my friend. I have to know where she is. She's in trouble. You've got to help me!" Severus was about ready to cry, but Slytherins didn't cry. He had to keep some pride. Michael replied. "She's in her dormitory, which isn't very dangerous, as far as I know.," but Severus had already headed toward the dormitory stairs. "Hey! You can't go." His words were shut out by a girl's scream above them, followed by hurried footsteps. A girl of Severus' age (15) was sprinting down the stairs, with tears streaking her face and her hand over her mouth. "Oh, my god. I-I-I opened the door and Molly was-was-was."  
  
Severus' subconscious was jerked awake by a strong, throbbing pain on his forearm.  
  
*************  
  
Hermione opened up her eyes and found herself open-mouthed in awe. She was in an enormous, archaic, beautiful building full of preoccupied people who all looked like they were right in the middle of something. The library had been built in the year 78 B.C., right in the middle of the Purity Revolution, during which Pureblood superiority was heavily debated. It held a copy of nearly every partially important and extremely important paper written on since the beginning of wizardry. Some papers, such as the Diary of Romulus, was kept in the Department of Sewage Disposal at the Ministry (named as such so that no one would suspect that anything important was in there, and, therefore, not break in), but only the Minister knew that and he was bound to that information and magically prevented from telling it. Other papers, were, unfortunately, lost, but these only numbered three. These were the papers that had been intended to ban giant hunting, which were burned when the signer was killed. The ceiling was arced and full of intricate designs, some of which set protective wards on the library, some of the strongest wards known to wizardkind. There were shelves upon shelves full of books, old and new; bright and faded. There were portraits of great witches and wizards, and, above each plaque that named each section, were portraits of the donators that had contributed to that particular section. The windows were composed of brightly colored mosaics and stained glass windows, each of which portrayed an important event in magical history. Hermione was reminded slightly of a church. After she'd gaped at the library for about five minutes, Harry, Ron, and Ginny had turned up. They looked around the building for a bit, and looked as though they couldn't believe that a library could be so beautiful. "Y'all ready?" said Hermione after awhile, being driven yet again by her thirst for knowledge. She would be learning a lot that day.  
  
***************  
  
"OWW!!," Snape yelled in pain. The Dark Lord must be summoning the Death Eaters for an important meeting, he thought. This normally meant murdering some person/group because they had caused Voldemort to feel hostile, or because He was introducing a new cunningly evil plan, all of which had been thwarted in one way or another in the past. In Severus' opinion, Voldemort was obviously slow and retarded in the "Cunning and Evil Plans" department.  
Severus got up and got dressed quickly, so that he could get to the Dark Lord before light. 


	4. In the Library with Lester the Depresser...

THE DISCLAIMER THAT I KEEP FORGETTING AND BETA SARAHV KEEPS TELLING ME TO DO SO THAT I DON'T GET SUED, WHICH I COULDN'T AFFORD TO DO: I don't own the characters (except Molly and some others which you'll see later), the previous plots, or anything else in this category. I wish I did, but I don't. Very sad, very sad. I also make no money from this (even though I could use some-again, very sad. I cannot accept any money, nor accept any credit for J.K. Rowling (the Queen of all Literature)'s work. Darn legalities. Pffft.  
  
A/N: For the quick-thinking readers, I'm sorry, but you're guesses were wrong. Molly Duncan is not the maiden name of Mrs. Weasley. It is, in fact, that of my mother. The name has nothing to do with the plot, so the Molly Duncan in the story is nothing like my mother (otherwise she'd run into walls and poles every five seconds!). I just needed a name. But good guesses! Anyway, St. David's is also a place that I have created in the story. And Rhysenn, Snape's owl, her name is from Cassie Claire's Draco Trilogy. The owl's supposed to be symbolic of her owner, in case you didn't catch it: she's mostly black, with hidden pieces of white---he's dark on the outside, but has traces and bits of purity inside. Very clever, I know. Enjoy and RR, please. Reviews are what I feed off of. And I'm hungry. I need food. Food is good. Yes, it is good. I do not know why, but it is. I'll leave it at that.  
  
**************************************  
  
Hermione and the others went to find a table to read at, but then they saw some really super duper relax your mind into a state of pure mush armchairs near the café and inhabited them. After getting a Magic Mocha from the café, Hermione set off for the library office to get her escort to the Malfoy section (the Ministry required any researchers of the Dark Arts to be monitored closely). After her escort, a surly looking 50-something named Lester, was sent to her, she started to admire the interior design a bit more as she walked. The walls were made of some sort of wood (acacia, she thought), with runes carved in them. They must have been either more ancient or a different form than what Hermione had learned, because in her translation of one of the sections, it said something along the lines of, "My hovercraft is full of eels." That probably wasn't it, but then again, you never know. Hermione had fun guessing at what each stained glass window/mosaic was depicting, which were mostly of important events in magical history , like wars, revolts, discoveries, and sporting events. She was just getting to the Goblin Rebellion of 1376 when Lester finally spoke. "What type of research will you be doing today, Miss Granger?" he said in a grizzly voice, a voice that sounded as though it shouldn't be there. "Huh? Oh, I'm researching what kind of magic brought back You-Know-Who two years ago. I'm pretty sure it's a Dark magic, because Harry Potter said that the spell, or whatever, needed the blood of the enemy, flesh of the servant, and bone of the father. Not all of them were willingly given, though. I really think that it's Blood Magic because it's supposed to be really powerful and Dark. I hope it's not too hard to find." "Blood Magic? Are you sure that the Ministry knew what you're researching?" he said, with a tone in his voice that made it sound as though he thought that Hermione was too young and inexperienced to handle something of the sort. He also sounded as though he didn't want her to research it at all, as though he were protecting the information. "I mean, you could only be all of what? Fifteen? It may be, dare I say, a little too harsh and dangerous for a girl of your age to meddle in." His voice was oily-sounding and malicious. "For your information..Lester, was it? For your information, I have written consent and recommendation from Albus Dumbledore to research this. I will be up to the challenge. Thank you for caring, Mr. Lester." She said with a contrary tone of voice. She hated being talked down to more than she hated discussing Quidditch. She was quiet until they got through the door behind Lucius Malfoy's portrait ("Not a Mudblood! I won't allow it." He said. She told him, "Oh, shut up, you're just a tapestry!" He then sneered a sneer to rival all sneers in the history of sneering sneerers.). When they got inside, Lester flanked the entrance and crossed his arms. "I'm waiting." He said. Hermione felt a sense of unwelcoming right when she entered the section. The books seemed to know think that she was unworthy to even look at their titles because of her origin. Damn rich, opinionated, racist books, she thought. She felt the urge to leave, but knew how sorry she'd be if she left, so she just endured the non-corporeal abuse. The contents of these shelves were ominous yet fascinating, and she saw a few that she'd like to check out if she ever got the chance. They were titled things like Demons, Demons, Demons (when she questioned the title of it to Lester, he responded with an annoyed comment of, "It's a book about demons, what would you call it?" "Bernard," she mumbled under her breath.); The Evil Overlords' Handbook; Revenge of The Flying Spatula; The Effervescent Evil MaiTai; How to Kill Off Useless Species, Such as Worms, Muggles, and Walruses; and How We Might Just Happen to Actually Destroy Harry Potter, Which We Know Will Never Happen, But We Wrote This Book Anyway Just For The Purpose of Saying We'd Written a Book. No wonder this place is restricted, she thought.  
  
**************************************  
  
Snape saw a swish of white-blond hair just ahead of him in the clearing. "D'ai stiho," he said. It was the Death Eaters way of seeing if a person was one of their kind. Voldemort had given them each their own kind of response: one that would describe him or herself and let others know who they were.  
"Snialahth Baille alla Cliath." Drawled the voice. "Lucius," said Snape, with an acknowledging nod. "Severus," responded Mr. Malfoy, with the same gesture. "What does He want this time, Lucius? I can only come here so many times without that old bastard knowing what I'm up to." He gave a mental apology to Dumbledore for calling him that. Although he had said that a few times before when he was being pressed to give Neville Longbottom and that hideous excuse for a girl, Millicent Bulstrode, remedial potions for a few weeks two years ago. "Well, Snape, Lord Voldemort has been pondering how to test his followers' loyalty for some time now, steepling his fingers a lot and saying things like "Hmmmm..hmmmm," and "Eeeexxxxcellent." It's been getting kind of annoying, but that's not the point. You are one of the people that he feels he needs to test the most. You are, after all, kind of close to the enemy." He sneered. God, he sneers too much.and it's ugly, too, he thought. "Malfoy, you know that I am, always have been, and always will be loyal to the Dark Lord. I have no intention of going over to the other side. I don't mind doing this loyalty test thing. I really hope that it consists of torturing and dangling innocent little puppies and fluffy little bunnies in front of Muggle children's faces. Or torturing and dangling the children, for that matter." Snape said with a slightly sarcastic and defiant tone. I bet Lucius would add something like making the little boys sleep naked in his bed with him and cuddling them like that psychotic Muggle celebrity that looked like a mutated doll, he thought to himself. But before he had a chance to laugh to himself, the two were surrounded by about forty dark figures saying, "D'ai stiho."  
  
A/N: I have to give the "Greetings of the Evil" credit to Ms. Diane Duane, the author of The Young Wizards Series. She's great, y'all should read the series. And "Baille alla Cliath" actually is Irish for Dublin.it doesn't describe Lucius in any way at all. I needed something creative at the time and couldn't find it. I think maybe Evil-Satanic-Bastard-Of-Doom would be a better description. But I couldn't get it translated yet. Pfft. And the part that Snape was thinking about what else Lucius would do (the part about the little naked boys) is supposed to be Snape thinking that Lucius is like Wacko Jacko, Michael Jackson. I had to get that in. RR, please. I want my food!! 


	5. Evil Cheese Books and The Grand Entrance...

Disclaimer (that I really hate to write every chapter so I think I'll just write something along the lines of "You know the legal stuff," and be done with it, but I don't think that'll cut it for all of the legal spawn of Satan: I don't own the characters. J.K. Rowling is a Goddess. Yes, she is. I own Molly D., Lester, and a few others. I also own St. David's. Not legally, though---costs too much, anyway. I don't make any money from this. Pity, but I try to find other ways..oh, the joys of upside-down, underwater basket weaving.  
  
A/N: Yes, I know, the plot isn't here yet. My mind works in mysterious ways. I have a plan, I promise. My betas---SarahV and TheGirlWithTheHair---- are going to help me a bit with the plot development so that it makes sense. I do seem to illustrate my ADD in every chapter, going off into unnecessary details and stuff, so please bear with me on that. But, hey, whoever said that it was bad to be like an ADD kid on speed with the attention span of a 3 year old?? No one, that's who. Damn shrinks. Please RR. Remember, I hate to starve. Please feed me. I've gotten only good reviews, which I love. Thanks to all of my readers. But if you can provide me with food, I can continue to entertain you. Peace.  
  
Hermione was immersed in the book Blood Magic is Dark Stuff.. eeewwww, Blood! by Sangre Mal, which had droplets of what she feared was blood on some of the pages. This is really complicated, she thought.  
  
All wizards are connected by blood. It can also bind anyone to anyone else in a different way. It is transferred through direct blood contact, and this is one of the reasons why wizards and witches have knives and other Muggle weapons, which draw and shed blood. The bind can be good and bad for both parties. It gives the recipient some of the characteristics and attributes of the giver. Take, for example, the bind that connects Harry Potter and the Dark Lord. However unintentionally, the Dark Lord transferred some of his powers to the unknowing child. Potter can speak Parseltongue, as can the Dark Lord. Potter has more of the Dark Lord's attributes, we are sure, however they are yet to be discovered. These may prove crucial in future years when the two meet again. The bind also serves as a homing device of sorts, which can lead the blood sharers to one another. Blood binds are often between enemies, which can be a factor in their battles. The bind can be one that equalizes the two persons, which is also a factor. The blood can also give one certain privileges that are carried in a family's blood. Many pureblooded manors, mansions, and establishments have wards that only allow one who has the family's blood traces in them. It's a very archaic form of protection, but, as the pureblooded community is becoming smaller and smaller, those that marry only purebloods are becoming more likely to be marrying a distant relative, which mixes the blood of almost every family together. The International Ministry of Magic now restricts all blood magic, however, it is often practiced illegally, and most blood magic is used for the worst.  
  
Wow, she thought. She glanced at Lester to make sure that he was still there, but she did a double take when she saw that he was grimacing and gripping his forearm. He can't be, she thought, he's a Ministry-employed research supervisor. But he did seem to have the traits of one of that side. She also noticed that Lucius Malfoy's portrait was talking to him in a hushed voice. He was also employed by the Ministry, so that was obviously not a factor. She got up and went to a row that was within earshot of the conversation, pretending to look for another text.  
  
"I told you that you should've left before," said Lucius in a tone that was one that four year olds would use to say, "I told you so."  
  
"Yeah, well, I'm working and making sure that no one gets to anything that could be harmful to Him. This girl's a bit sketchy, but." he just realized the Hermione wasn't at the table anymore. He looked and saw her in a nearby row. Right when he mentioned her, Hermione had quickly pulled a random book of the shelf so that it looked like she was, indeed, looking for another book. But Lester knew that neither Blood Magic nor anything of the sort was on that row. That was the row that contained the hidden texts, which were kept in unsuspected books, like How Cheese Can be Made Evil, and Lester hoped that she hadn't picked up any by mistake, for that would mean punishment for sure from the Dark Lord.  
  
"Girl, why the hell are you over there? That is not the Blood Magic section! You were only permitted to research that topic alone. Nothing else!" he tried not to sound panicked, but he failed. Lucius was looking disproving and he shared one last evil glare at Lester before leaving the portrait. Oh, no, thought Lester, he's off to tell my Master!  
  
"I.. uh.. er.um.I thought that I would see if food can be used in, er, allowing one to take another's blood. Maybe cheese.ooops!" Out fell some parchment from the book. "Oh, I'm sorry, I."  
  
"Oh, shit!" exclaimed Lester when he realized what they were.  
  
Hermione caught a glimpse of what was on them, though, for a few seconds before Lester had snatched the book away and collected the stray papers. They had a map on one page, which showed, unmistakably, the Route of the Dark, a map that Hermione had read about and had seen sketches of, but nothing that she had read was actually known for sure. The authors had heard about what it was and how it worked, but they had only guessed at what it looked like. The map was labaled as the Marked Trail, another name for the Route. Hermione saw that there were many dots near one location in particular, one with the abbreviation "G.H.". She also saw an outline of a process, something about the Proof of Loyalty. This stuff didn't look like it had anything to do with malicious cheese.  
  
Hermione thought that she was more unwelcome than ever now, and quickly gathered her notes, quill, and bag. She felt the need to leave this section as quickly as she could, so that Lester wouldn't begin to fume. Lester looked thoroughly pissed at himself and was hastily pocketing the parchment. With a quick "Thank you," Hermione went trough the portrait and walked straight to where the others were as quickly as she could, not forgetting the look on Lester's face, a scared, guilty face that a burglar will have when they are seen in the act. She had to the others as soon as possible.  
  
**********************************  
  
Snape passed the rocky remains of what he knew used to be a house, which had been repeatedly searched and investigated. He felt somewhat guilty and thought that it was wrong to be in this place. The sky was a murky gray, with clouds hinting at rain. The place looked ominous and sad, if a place could feel sadness. Hooded people were walking and appearing here from every direction, looking as though they floated instead of walked. They were beginning to form a circle around the ruins of the house. There were only a few other houses, but they had all been abandoned. This was the place that the Dark Lord favored for his Evil Plotting Sessions and Death Eater meetings. It was unknown to many of his followers why, of all places, He chose this place to convene.  
  
Snape assumed his position near the head of the circle, right next to Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy, the Dark Lord's most loyal and evil followers. Snape had no idea why he was placed right up there with them-all of Voldemort's followers were sorted in some way, based on loyalty, how long the person had been a Death Eater, what sacrifices he/she had made and how many, and what he/she had done in His service.  
  
Snape had been faithful for many years before his reform, and had been "loyal" for about as long as he had really been loyal. So that was about 20 years, because he'd joined when his fiancé had died, which was two years after he left Hogwarts.19. He had changed a lot in the 39-year span of his life. His father had forsaken him and anytime he actually felt that he loved someone and they had loved him, too, he would lose them. This was what had turned him to Voldemort in the first place, but what had made him change was unbeknownst to him at the time.  
  
He knew that several sacrifices had been made on his part for Voldemort, yet many of those weren't really sacrificial. While pretending to be a spy for the Dark side, he would let things slip "accidentally," and many of these things were untrue, but Voldemort had never blamed him for His failed attempts at Evil-doing. Snape was a valuable spy for Dumbledore because of his rank in the Death Squad, a lot of insider information wasn't shared with the lower ranks, so Dumbledore and the Order got a lot of confidential information.  
  
As Snape was receiving a mental certificate of achievement from himself, the lower ranks began to fall to their knees and make an opening in the circle. Two figures, a tall one and a short one, were proceeding to the center of the congregation. The taller one was accepting bows from the inferiors, some of them crawling to Him so that they could kiss the hem of His robes. As He moved into the center of the circle, He nodded His head at the higher ranks, and Snape and the others bowed respectfully in return. He walked towards the top of the circle and settled in between Lucius and Bellatrix, while Wormtail took his place to Bellatrix's left. "D'ai stiho," he said. "Welcome, Death Eaters."  
  
A/N: Okay, there were a whole bunch of little hints dropped in here and if you think you've found them, take a guess in your review-I consider guesses my dessert. Hahaha. Anyway, the Route of the Dark works like the Marauders' Map-it shows where people are and stuff. A bunch of my little details and things are actually important in future chapters, such as my, er, dabbles in Snape's post-Hogwarts life. Oooh, I know I should let y'all find these things out on your own, but. I just can't. Hope y'all like it. RR-I'm sooo hungry. Food is still good, and I still do not know why. 


	6. Ice Cream and Shrubberies

Disclaimer (that I really hate to write every chapter so I think I'll just write something along the lines of "You know the legal stuff," and be done with it, but I don't think that'll cut it for all of the legal spawn of Satan: I don't own the characters. J.K. Rowling is a Goddess. Yes, she is. I own Molly D., Lester, and a few others. I also own St. David's. Not legally, though---costs too much, anyway. I don't make any money from this. Pity, but I try to find other ways..oh, the joys of upside-down, underwater basket weaving.  
  
A/N: Okay....much much much apologies for my HUGE break, but I've been busy...school, softball, school, and the lot. But I'm on SB now, so HAVE NO FEAR!! AN UPDATE IS HERE!! Hope you keep reading and reviewing...I'm starving. Peace! Enjoy!  
  
Hermione finally reached the table, breathless. "What's up?" asked Harry, concerned.  
  
"Yeah, Herm, you look upset and distraught," commented Ron, after observing an upset and distraught Hermione. Hermione was still reviewing the past ten minutes mentally, trying to analyze what she'd just seen. A Death Eater?? At St. David's? She doubted that the Ministry knew what he was involved with, otherwise, he most likely wouldn't have been hired.  
  
"I'm...I'm fine. It's nothing, really. I...I just found some really interesting stuff to tell you about, that's all."  
  
"Oh. Well, okay, Hermione, but you're sure you're okay?" asked Harry, sounding slightly relieved.  
  
"I'm sure, Harry. Thanks."  
  
She had no idea why she didn't tell them what she'd seen, nor why she felt that they were better off not knowing. Probably because she didn't want them to worry any more than they had to. They were already worried enough about Voldemort as it was, they didn't need any more. She had also noticed a bit of detachment on Harry's part. Before, she'd been able to see deep into those unfathomable green eyes and know what he was thinking about and feeling. But no more. She couldn't ever tell like she used to. Something was worrying him.  
  
"So....do y'all want to go get some ice cream? I want to try Fortesque's new flavour changing ice cream.," she asked, trying to get off the topic.  
  
"Oh, yeah. Sounds great Herm!" said Ron.  
  
"Sure," replied Harry.  
  
Ginny, who had been uncharacteristically quiet until now, responded with an affirmative smile and nod. Harry and Ron could never understand Hermione as well as Ginny could, so, as usual, she knew something was up. And it show in her eyes. As if on cue, she went over to Hermione right when the boys had gone on ahead. "Spill."  
  
****  
  
"D'ai stiho," said the Dark Lord, by way of greeting. "Tonight, we will begin the process of loyalty testing," as Snape began to think about how unnaturally dull the title "Loyalty Testing" was compared to "The Evil and Supreme Weeding Out Of Those Who Are Double-Crossing Me, The Evil Guy Of Doom," but then regained his attention.  
  
"This testing will consist of showing how far each of you is willing to go to show me that you are loyal. Murder, cunning plans, information, and Ministry infiltration are all acceptable, depending on how valuable each of these are. You must also go through various written tests, sacrifices, and allegiance pledges."  
  
"Written tests? Allegiance pledges? He's lost his touch," Snape thought.  
  
Next to him Lucius smirked. "Y'know, Severus, you're going to have to do really well on these tests. The Dark Lord has set these tests for several of us in particular. You're one of his targets," he muttered under his breath. Snape pretended not to notice.  
  
"...And many of you, I'm afraid must pass these perfectly, or you will be deemed unfaithful, and therefore disposed of cruelly."  
  
This went on for several more minutes until He finally dismissed them. Among his evil talk were Harry Potter destruction plans (most likely unsuccessful), new ideas thrown around for the upcoming evil bake sale, and shrubberies for the Evil Meeting Place of Solitude (after this was mention, Snape could've sworn that he'd heard a few Death Eaters utter "NI!").  
  
When it was clear that Snape had no other business there, he disapparated to Dumbledore's office for a debriefing, after which he went secluded himself to his quarters and indulged in a nice bottle of Firewhiskey. 


	7. Encouragemnet and SelfDoubt AN

Dear Fans:

I feel quite horrible about doing half of a story. My plan is to finish it, if there is any demand. If there are new readers, please RR, let me know if you are interested. The joy of writing is halved for me, first when my writing pleases myself, and then when it pleases the readers. You keep me wanting to write, but without you, I only half-enjoy my work. So, please let me know: should I keep going? I again feel bad about going well over a year without any sign of life from both myself and the story. So, let me know, please, and I will feel compelled to do as you wish…


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